


Counting

by Hellesgift



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:43:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellesgift/pseuds/Hellesgift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean didn't want to talk about it.  Hell, last thing he wanted was some chick-flick moment about his 1001 ways to die before you go to hell.  But Sammy was still walking around like his bones were made of glass, more breakable than Dean had ever seen, and that had to be fixed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting

Dean didn't want to talk about it.  Hell, last thing he wanted was some chick-flick moment about his 1001 ways to die before you go to hell.  But Sammy was still walking around like his bones were made of glass, more breakable than Dean had ever seen, and that had to be fixed.

 

"Sounds like it got kind of Wile E. Coyote and Acme there at the end," he said, not looking up from the guns laid out on the table.  "I mean...safes?  Run-away trains?  Gangs of naked cheerleaders?  You must have gotten a laugh from some of that, man."

 

He could feel Sammy's bitch-face from across the room.  "No, actually, Dean, I...cheerleaders?   Dean, there were no naked cheerleaders."

 

"You sure?  Cause that's the one I remember."  Dean flashed his best grin, but there was no returning humor.  "Aw, come on, Sammy.  All's well that ends--"

 

"No."  Sam raised his hand, and then clenched it into a fist.  "No, Dean.  It never ended well.  It wasn't...it wasn't funny.  Not ever."

 

"The safe was kind of--"

 

"You DIED, Dean.  Every time, okay?"

 

"Yeah, but you must have gotten used to it by about, what, number 500 or so," it sounded feeble even to Dean, and he wasn't surprised by Sam's snort of disgust.

 

"It was...every time was awful.  No matter how many I'd seen.  And every time..."  He looked down, jaw clenching.

 

Hell, he'd brought it up, so no chickening out now.  "What?"

 

"Every time was your first."

 

Dean wanted to make some joke about being a death-virgin, but considering that Sammy _wasn't_ , it didn't seem all that funny.  

 

"Every time you died, Dean...every time was a nightmare for me, but every time was horrible for _you_ , too, and I'm glad--I'm so fucking glad you don't remember, but I _do_."  Dean winced away from the sight of Sam's wild, wide eyes filling with tears.  "Sometimes you clutched at me, begged me for help.  Sometimes you tried to tell me it was okay.  You tried not to scream, but sometimes you--god, it hurt so much sometimes.  You..." his voice broke and he raised a hand to wipe angrily at his cheek.  "You apologized a lot, Dean.  'Sorry, Sammy' as I tried to hold your guts in or tried to stop the bleeding or the poison or whatever the _fuck_ was killing you that time.  I even fucking _forgave_ you once or twice, because it seemed to help.  Forgave you for stepping in front of me the--what?-- _fifth_ time you got shot?  You thought I'd been hit the first time with the knife: your blood was all over me and you kept grabbing at me, scared, begging me to be okay, and I didn't manage to convince you in time.  You died thinking I was hurt and you couldn't--"

 

"Hey, Sammy," Dean was across the room before he remembered moving, grabbing Sam's shoulders and shaking him.  "Come on.  Stop it, man."

 

"You save me all the time and I couldn't save you!"  All of a sudden Sam's glass-bones shattered.  Dean braced himself, letting them both down slow as Sam slumped in his arms.  He didn't want to end up holding Sam while kneeling--way too many bad memories--so he pulled them both onto their asses, propped them against the end of the bed.  

 

"Sammy, it's okay.  It's okay, man--you saved me when it counted."

 

Sam's face was buried in Dean's neck, but he could still hear the choked response.  "It always counts, Dean."


End file.
